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Inside the small football stadium in Idlib, with its tin roof and stone bleachers, the sound of crutches clattering against one another echoes through the air, mingling with the shouting of the players. Al Tahaddi, the local team of amputees, trains here twice a week. Originally formed in 2021 with just eight players, the team now boasts 32. Khaled Mushaimish, 26, is one of the club’s strikers. In 2016, he was hit by a shell and lost his left leg.
“Before I joined the team, I was depressed, anxious. I felt useless. Playing football with teammates has given me a renewed sense of purpose in my daily life. It has improved my mental health and that of my loved ones, while allowing me to be much more mobile. I also feel like I have something to offer society,” says the enthusiastic young father.
In north-west of Syria, sport offers a rare breath of fresh air for many amputees wounded in a war that has lasted for more than 13 years. To promote their inclusion, the Syrian NGO Violet had planned a Paralympic Games featuring over 300 athletes last September.
However, the event was abruptly shut down after just one day by the radical Islamist group Hay’at Tahrir al-Sham (HTS), which has been in control of the Idlib Governorate for several years. The militia argued that the use of the Olympic flame amounted to idolatry of the Greek gods, triggering deep disappointment among the disabled athletes who had spent months training.
Difficulty accessing prosthetics
In north-west Syria, where more than one in four people (28 per cent) are affected by a dis-ability, according to a 2021 UN report, access to medical care and equipment remains diffi-cult and prospects for those with disabilities are bleak. “Not everyone can get basic crutch-es because the demand is so high. While I was fortunate enough to receive a prosthesis for my leg, I can’t adjust it as often as I should due to a lack of resources. I also have to replace it every three or four years to fit my stump, which is prohibitively expensive,” explains Mushaimish.
Around 60 per cent of people in the region who need prostheses cannot afford them. “The most basic prostheses cost US$300 for below-the-knee amputations and US$1,000 for above-the-knee amputations. Higher quality prostheses cost at least several thousand dollars. Some components, such as feet and joints, need to be imported from Turkey,” explains Mohammed al-Ismail, a physiotherapy specialist at the Al-Ameen medical centre in the city of Sarmada. The centre treats around thirty patients each month for physiotherapy sessions and manufacturers parts for prostheses, such as sockets (the part of the prosthesis that fits over the residual limb) and silicone sleeves. More than 120 patients are currently on their waiting list.
In the summer of 2022, the Syrian Salvation Government [a local administrative entity inde-pendent of the central government, editor’s note] controlled by HTS, began issuing licences for prosthesis manufacturing centres. Today, the Idlib governorate has around ten such centres, of which only five provide services for free. The private centres offer prostheses and wheelchairs at unaffordable prices in a region where 90 per cent of the population live be-low the poverty line and rely heavily on humanitarian aid.
Public centres, on the other hand, have limited resources. “They are insufficient to meet the growing needs of the region,” admits Melhem Ghazi, director of secondary and tertiary care for the Syrian Salvation Government.
The number of people injured in the Syrian conflict has surpassed 2.5 million, and Syria has the highest number of explosive device victims in the world, especially in the north, where the impact is disproportionately high.
To make matters worse, the devastating earthquake that occurred in February 2023, killing 6,000 people and injuring more than 10,000 in the region, has only increased demand for medical care. “Many people were trapped under the rubble for extended periods. Doctors in overcrowded hospitals were often unable to preserve limbs and had no choice but to amputate in order to save lives,” says Dr Arif, who oversees health programmes for the Syri-an NGO Ataa Relief. In 2020, the NGO established a health centre in the town of Azaz, offer-ing prosthetics, orthopaedic devices and physiotherapy for patients from across northern Syria.
“It’s almost impossible for us to maintain our programmes consistently because we regularly receive funding that lasts only six months or a year, while disability care requires long-term follow-up. This sector is not a priority for international aid, and support for health services is shrinking every day,” warns the doctor, who tells Equal Times that 160 medical facilities in north-west Syria are expected to close by 2025.
International funding for Syria has dropped drastically in 2024, with only 27.3 per cent of humanitarian needs covered so far by the international community – 21.5 per cent in the health sector – compared to 41 per cent in 2023 and 53 per cent in 2022.
Limited mobility and discrimination
While the medical needs of Syrians remain immense, the living conditions they face make daily life particularly difficult. Some 3.4 million people displaced from other parts of Syria are currently living in the Idlib governorate. Most of them are crammed into 1,500 makeshift camps.
“They are often made up of canvas tents, prone to frequent flooding, and situated on une-ven terrain or fields, which makes it very difficult to use wheelchairs, for example. Many people have no mobility, and NGOs are rarely able to establish sustainable health facilities in the camps,” notes Bassam Alhourani, psychosocial support manager at the NGO Sanad, which specialises in assisting people with disabilities. Mobility outside the camps is no less complicated, as the most widespread – and cheapest – form of transportation is the moped.
The perception of disability in Syrian society, which remains largely negative, also impacts the mental health of those most affected. Abu Nasser Jomaa, 53, a former vegetable vendor who was displaced from Eastern Ghouta in the suburbs of Damascus, continues to suffer from this perception.
“Before I was seriously injured by a bomb in 2015, I was always helping others. After my left leg was amputated, the way people saw me changed. Children and elderly people offered to help, some looked at me with pity, and a woman even offered me money,” recalls the father of six.
“It’s hard being the head of a family, finding yourself in this condition and no longer able to provide for your children. When I look for work, I feel rejected because of my disability,” says Jomaa, who is desperately searching for a job.
According to a recent study by the Assistance and Coordination Unit (ACU), an NGO based in Turkey and aligned with the Syrian opposition, 51 per cent of people with disabilities in northern Syria are unemployed, compared to 40 per cent of those without such challenges. That number rises to 82 per cent for individuals with severe disabilities, including ampu-tees.
“The situation for women is even worse, on every level: they are more likely to be victims of insults in the street, psychological violence, or gender-based violence,” says Dr Arif of Ataa Relief.
